Classroom of the Elite: Standing Firm in Class A — Chapter 80

Chapter 80: Preemptive Seizure

“Understood.”

The sheer simplicity of the response caught Katsuragi Kohei off guard. He had braced himself for a fierce debate, fully expecting Kaedehara Tetsu to raise sharp objections or at least attempt to haggle over the division of authority.

Instead, the immediate agreement left a lingering sense of unease settling in Katsuragi’s chest. Did Tetsu possess that much absolute confidence in this special exam? Or did he simply view the upcoming trials with complete apathy?

“Very well.” Tetsu swept his gaze across the gathered students of Class A, his dark eyes betraying no emotion. “Since the issue of leadership has been resolved, let’s start formulating a concrete action plan.”

He turned his attention back to the stoic, bald teenager. “Katsuragi-kun, I’ll leave the planning for our starting allowance of 270 points to you. You will be responsible for purchasing our basic daily necessities.”

Hearing this, the tight lines around Katsuragi’s eyes relaxed a fraction. Though he had effectively lost the seat of supreme command, retaining control over the crucial aspect of material procurement meant he still held significant influence over the class’s survival.

“, on the surface, you will still act as our leader for this exam. However, as for the actual holder of the key card…” Tetsu’s gaze drifted sideways, landing on the boy sitting faithfully beside Katsuragi.

Totsuka Yahiko. A core member of the Katsuragi faction.

“Let’s have Totsuka-kun hold it.”

Totsuka blinked, pointing a trembling finger at his own chest. “Me? But I…”

“You’ll be fine,” Tetsu interrupted, cutting off the self-doubt before it could even form. A faint, unreadable smile touched his lips. “Besides, this arrangement should help soothe Katsuragi-kun’s dissatisfaction slightly, shouldn’t it?”

Katsuragi’s expression softened just a bit more. Though he knew perfectly well that this was merely Tetsu’s calculated way of pacifying his faction, it at least proved the new mastermind wasn’t entirely disregarding their political weight within the class.

“Katsuragi-kun, when we were standing on the ship’s deck earlier, you must have noticed the areas along the coastline with obvious signs of human activity, right?” Tetsu shifted the topic smoothly, his tone shifting into a strictly businesslike cadence.

Katsuragi nodded, his mind recalling the island’s topography. “The artificial modifications were quite obvious. Those must be the bases the school mentioned in the rules.”

“Correct.” Tetsu didn’t miss a beat, immediately issuing his directives. “Once you and Totsuka receive the engraved key card, head straight to the nearest location and occupy a base. The faster, the better. Do not give the other classes a single window of opportunity.”

Hashimoto Masayoshi leaned forward, cutting into the silence. “What about the rest of us?”

“I will arrange for a detachment to push toward the more distant bases first. They will secure the perimeters and blockade those areas so the other classes cannot claim them.” Tetsu met Hashimoto’s questioning look with cold precision. “The remaining students will push deep into the island’s interior to scout for hidden bases that were obscured from the ship’s view.”

Katsuragi frowned, his cautious nature flaring up. “Moving to occupy bases so blatantly will expose exactly who in our class is holding the key card. If we do that…”

“It doesn’t matter. In fact, I am more than happy to let them see.”

“What?” Katsuragi’s voice rose a fraction. “Then the points we gain from occupying those bases will be entirely meaningless! As long as the identity of the key card holder is guessed, we won’t retain any of those extra points!”

The rules of the Uninhabited Island Exam were absolute. On the final day, each class could guess the identities of the opposing classes’ key card holders. A correct guess granted a massive fifty-point reward, while an incorrect guess incurred a fifty-point penalty. Crucially, if a class’s leader was successfully identified by an opponent, all the bonus points that class had accumulated from occupying bases would be instantly wiped out.

“Just do exactly as I say.” Tetsu’s voice didn’t fluctuate in the slightest, treating Katsuragi’s entirely valid concern as nothing more than background noise. “I guarantee no one will guess it.”

He delivered the statement so lightly, with such chilling certainty, that a heavy silence fell over the surrounding students.

“You… are you really sure?”

“Absolutely sure.” Tetsu nodded once, his posture relaxed. “Also, Katsuragi-kun, when you occupy the base, remember to survey the surrounding terrain. Find a suitable location for us to set up camp and live for the week.”

Dismissing the conversation, Tetsu turned toward the adult standing quietly a short distance away.

“Mashima-sensei.”

The Class A homeroom teacher looked up.

“Could you please prepare a large quantity of plastic bags and bring them over once we’ve established a campsite?”

“Sure, I will go apply for them now,” Mashima-sensei replied evenly. He didn’t question the request; according to the manual, basic items like plastic bags could be supplied indefinitely without spending points.

“One more thing.” Tetsu slowly swept his gaze across the faces of his classmates. The casual atmosphere vanished, replaced by a sudden, suffocating pressure. “From this moment forward, everyone must remember one absolute truth. We are not here on a tropical vacation. This is a special exam.”

He let the words hang in the humid air for a second.

“I know some of you might harbor objections to the arrangements I just made, but now is not the time for a democratic discussion. If anyone is unwilling to follow my orders, I will personally find a way to make you satisfied. After all, once you’re expelled, you won’t have any more opinions to share, right?”

The threat was delivered with a conversational lightness, but the underlying malice was razor-sharp. No one dared to meet his eyes. The few students who had been whispering among themselves snapped their mouths shut.

Katsuragi took a long, deep look at Tetsu, analyzing the dark-haired boy for a moment before turning on his heel.

“Since that is the plan, I will go retrieve the key card with the teacher now. Totsuka, come with me.”

“Understood.” Totsuka quickly scrambled after him.

Watching the two students walk away alongside Mashima-sensei, Hashimoto finally voiced the lingering doubt in the air. “Are you really certain that no one will guess the holder of the key card?”

“Think about it,” Tetsu replied smoothly. “If we operate strictly by common sense, what would happen if Katsuragi Kohei held the key card in his capacity as the surface leader?”

Hashimoto paused, his sharp mind instantly running the simulation. “That would be a disaster. The other classes would immediately notice that Katsuragi—the supposed commander—is personally carrying the card and running around the island. That behavior in itself is incredibly unreasonable.”

He glanced toward the distant figures of Katsuragi and Mashima-sensei. “Under normal circumstances, a leader of his caliber would remain in the rear to manage logistics and command the class, rather than doing the grunt work of occupying bases. Such abnormal behavior would instantly paint a massive target on his back.”

Tetsu nodded approvingly, gesturing for him to continue.

“More,” Hashimoto mused, rubbing his chin, “if Katsuragi actually did that, the other classes would shift their suspicion toward the people closest to him. Someone like Totsuka Yahiko, who is practically glued to Katsuragi’s side, would directly enter their line of sight.”

“Exactly. In that scenario, Class A would be put at a severe disadvantage. It’s a fundamentally flawed plan.”

“Wait, didn’t you just say you knew it was a bad plan?” Hashimoto asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

He opened his mouth to press the issue, but Kamuro Masumi, who had been standing silently off to the side, spoke first.

“He’s letting the others think the person holding the key card is Katsuragi’s closest confidant, while simultaneously making it impossible for them to be absolutely certain if it’s the truth or an intentional diversion.”

Kamuro’s voice was flat and entirely devoid of warmth. As she spoke, she idly adjusted the strap of the specialized digital watch clamped around her wrist. “After all, in a psychological exam like this, any behavior that seems too obvious is automatically assumed to be a trap.”

Hashimoto fell into deep thought, digesting her analysis. “I suppose that’s one way to play it. But it still means putting our pieces out in the open right from the starting line, forcing us into a passive position. The strategy is way too risky.”

“Have you ever heard the idiom, ‘A cunning rabbit has three burrows’?” Tetsu asked, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “A truly cunning rabbit will always prepare three separate hiding holes for itself to ensure its survival.”

Hashimoto’s eyes widened slightly. “What do you mean? Are you saying we need to prepare multiple backup plans? Or are you implying that…”

“Enough.”

Tetsu waved a hand dismissively, cutting the blonde boy off mid-sentence. His tone shifted back to a relaxed, almost lazy drawl. “I’m not entirely sure if we have some bigmouths among us who might go around blabbing our strategies to the enemy.”

The sudden remark made the small group stiffen.

Kamuro clicked her tongue, curling her lip in clear disgust at the implication that she might be a potential leaker. Hashimoto merely shook his head with a wry, knowing smile. He understood perfectly well what Tetsu was doing—reminding his inner circle that absolute confidentiality was the only currency that mattered on this island.